Je vous aime simplement
by Tezbert
Summary: Arthur likes to spend Sunday mornings alone, but thanks to a certain Frenchman it has become impossible. R&R First Hetalia fic. :D


**Author's Notes:**

**So here it is! My first Hetalia fanfiction. I can believe the first pairing I am writing for is France and England. :D It feels like Sweden and Finland should have been the first, or HRE and Chibitalia, but none the less it was fun. This one is for my best female lass, Subakai. She asked me to do a FrUk fic when I asked people to give me requests on what to write for Hetalia. I am actually happy with it. I thought I was going to fail badly but its not so bad. I might have done a few things wrong. I am not so sure how these two would act. I just know that England is a gent/perv and France is just a perv. XD I tried my best to research English and French etiquette too so I wouldn't make them do much out of their culture. France was the hardest to draw a point of view for because I don't generally know how he acts. I need to read more fics of them. XD I hope you guys enjoy it.**

**BTW, Su-chan. XD Yeah I said Su-chan cause of your name, Subakai. So my hubby is technically Su-san and you are Su-chan. My best female friend and my best male friend. Yoohoo! Anyway, I thought about it and I might write a higher rated continuation to this for you after Im done with the prompts. Not too graphic but a bit more.**

**OMG, forgive me for using strong language. D: Stuff like a** and s****y and anything else I am not use to writing. I felt so embarrassed.**

**The next one is coming soon!**

**Ciao! :D**

**Je vous aime simplement**

I simply love you

A FrUk fic

**England's POV**

Bright light poured through my window. The light of the morning sun was making it impossible for me to sleep much longer. I turned my face away from it, blocking it with my hand. I wasn't ready to get out of bed yet. On Sunday mornings I would allow myself to linger in bed, until I was so sore I couldn't stand to lay there anymore. The stress of all the meetings and failed attempts at getting things done made it pleasant to spend some time to myself in relaxation and peace from the other countries.

I turned to look at the clock and saw that it was past nine and decided that it was probably late enough. I sat up and stretched as I yawned. The stretching helped my sore body get ready for the day. I moved the sheets aside and tossed my legs over the side of the bed. My feet went into my slippers and I began to walk towards the toilet.

After going there, I walked to my wardrobe and began to change. I wanted to wear something casual and easy to move around in. I settled for a white button up dress shirt and a pair of black dress pants. I put my shoes on and after a glance in the mirror headed down stairs.

My house was quiet on days like these. I made it a point to tell Alfred to never bother me on Sunday's unless it was absolutely necessary. Although at times he wouldn't listen. That bloody git always found some way to ruin my day. Today, I told myself, that I would kick him out if he even tried to come anywhere near my peaceful day.

I walked into my living room and what I saw greatly annoyed me. I glared down at the very nude Frenchman laying on my couch. He was sprawled on it with his arms behind his head and one of his legs hanging off the side of it. His blanket had long since fallen to the ground leaving his naked body exposed. I walked around the couch and picked up the sheet covering him.

"You'll catch a cold," I said irritated. He stirred in his sleep and began to mumble. I moved closer trying to hear what he was saying. That was a mistake.

"Arthur," he said in a most embarrassing tone as he draped an arm over my neck and pulled me down into a hug. "Est il heure pour une tapis à longs poils de matin?" I blushed and pushed away from him falling backwards onto the floor.

"What the bloody hell was that," I demanded.

He sat up and yawned as he looked around a bit dazed before looking down at me confused.

"Mon cheri," he spoke in a pleasant tone. "What are you doing on the floor?"

"I-its your bloody fault you know," I yelled back standing up. "Put some clothes on you ars!"

He stood and the sheets fell to the floor again. I looked away blushing even more. He grinned deviously.

"Do you like," he asked.

"W-wha-" I stuttered. "Are you going to put your clothes on or do I have to toss you out of my house without them?!"

"Fine, fine," he said as he moved about looking for his clothes.

"I'm going to make tea," I told him as I walked out of the room and headed for the kitchen.

**France's POV**

I watched as Arthur walked out of the room while I began to dress myself. Arthur was who I had been dreaming about before I had woken up. Last night I had come to his house and told him that my car had stopped working near his house. He had been suspicious but had let me sleep on his couch.

The real reason I had come here was to tell him something important. Something I had been contemplating myself for sometime. I had been so worked up about telling him that I had walked to his house. What did I want to tell him you might ask? Its something quite simple you see. I needed to tell him that I was in love with him. I sat down on the couch and waited for him to return.

"Are you done dressing," I heard him ask behind me. I turned to look at him. He had a tray with tea and a plate of his scones.

"Ces scones misérables à vous," I asked nonchalantly.

"You dont have to eat them you ars," he said walking himself to the front of the couch. He set the tray down on the small table in front of the couch. I watched him do this and smiled as I gropped his ass making him jump.

"What the hell Francis," he yelled.

"Pardon mon cheri," I apologized. "I couldn't help myself. Specially with you waving it in my face like that."

He blushed as he moved to sit on the opposite end of the couch. He grabbed his tea and held it to his mouth blowing on it slowly. I tensed as my heart fluttered. Why did he have to do things that tempted me? Specially when I wanted to remain as non perverted as possible when I told him. Athough, I supposed, gropping his ass wasn't very non perverse.

He took a sip and looked over at me annoyed and asked, "What the hell are you looking at?"

"Non," I responded. "Nothing at all."

I turned to grab my tea and took hold of one of the scones. Everyone knew that Arthur wasn't a very good cook. Anyone who had his scones knew that they were terrible. Once person, however, still managed to eat them. Alfred seemed to complain enough about them, but even so he would eat them. Francis wondered if it was because he liked Arthur, or if he just had really bad sense of taste. Or it couldn't have been both. He took at bite and tried to ignore the taste as he swallowed. He looked over at Arthur who was staring at him dumbfounded.

"Oui," I asked.

"Y-you ate it," he pointed out.

I looked at the scone and back at him, "So it seems."

"I though you said they were shitty," he said.

"They are," I said pursing my lips.

"Then why did you eat it," he demanded.

"If Alfred can do it, so can I," I said simply.

"Yeah, but he does it because-" he cut off.

I looked at him as I thought about how his sentence was going to end. Alfred ate them because what? Because he loved Arthur? Is that what he was going to say?

"Do you like Alfred," I asked feeling my self frown. Even though I tried not to.

"Of course I don't," he denied. "Why would a like that bloody idiot?!"

"You are acting like you are in denial," I said.

"Well you're wrong," he spat at me.

"I think he loves you," I pointed out.

"W-what makes you say that," he asked.

"He is always clinging to you," I responded simply setting my unsipped tea down and putting the scone back on the plate.

"He's always done that," he said. "Don't but your bitten scone back either."

Everything was silent for a moment and it began to get awkward. We always seemed to get into arguments when we saw each other. Our personalities just made it that way. I knew they upset him but I still managed to tell him something that would throw both of us into a fit.

"So you like him," I stated.

"Damn it," he said in a raised voice. "I said no!"

"Lies," I said.

"W-well what about you and Matthew," he asked.

"What about him," I asked. This conversation was getting annoying.

"He always clings to you," he mentioned. "Maybe he likes you and you like him."

"Non," I said. "Matthew is like a son or a brother to me. Besides, I already have someone else I li-"

I stopped myself from finishing that sentence. What I had been about to tell him had reminded me of why I had come to speak to him in the first place. I took a deep breath rubbing my forehead. I looked up at him and my gaze lingered on him making him look away.

"W-what are you looking at," he asked in a lower voice.

"Vous semblez sexy dans cette chemise," I said.

"Bloody hell," he stood and walked away from me towards the door.

I stood and grabbed his wrist stopping him from going. He turned to me and glared. I felt like such an idiot for having said what I had said. The last thing I needed was for him to be so angry at me that he didn't want to listen to what I was going to tell him.

"Desole," I apologized.

His glare disappeared.

**Third Person POV**

Arthur looked at Francis in disbeliefe. Had he just apologized for being rude? It even sounded sincere. He wondered when the Frenchman had hit his head. He had never received such a sincere apology. Usually his apologies would be followed by another rude or perverse remark. He half expected to have him laugh at any moment and tell him it was a joke.

"L-let go of me," Arthur said.

"No," Francis said. "I will not."

"Why the bloody hell not," he demanded.

"I have to tell you something," Francis responded. "I need you to listen to me carefully when I do."

"Why should I," Arthur asked annoyed.

Francis let go of his wrist and walked closer to him, a serious expression on his face. Arthur stepped back nervously, taking one step back as Francis took one step closer. Both stared into each others eyes. Francis because he wanted Arthur to see he was serious, and Arthur because he dared not look away. Soon, Arthur found himself against the wall with Francis only inches away from him. His palms pressed against the wall preventing Arthur from moving away. He looked into his eyes intensely, which made Arthur feel uncomfortable.

Arthur's breath began to feel uneven. His cheeks began to feel warm and he could feel his heart begin to beat faster. Francis seemed to be concentrating on his eyes very carefully. His serious face turning into a faint smile, making Arthur feel embarrassed.

Francis leaned in closer to Arthur keeping his gaze on his eyes. The awkwardness was making Arthur blush. It felt as if Francis could read his mind with the fierceness in which he looked into his eyes. It felt like he could look into his very soul.

"Si beau," Francis said in almost a whisper. Arthur's expression changed from one of embarrasement to one of annoyance.

"I-if you say that you look handsome in the reflection of my eyes Im going to kill you," England said as he looked away from Francis slightly annoyed. He had heard this joke before from Alfred and wasn't going to fall for it.

"Non, mon cheri," he said. "I mean you."

Arthur didn't turn back to him but his cheeks began to redden. He was accustomed to Francis' need to shag everything in site and his use of charm to gain it, but the way he had spoken moments before made his heart flutter and his stomach fill with butterflies. Francis took hold of his chin and turned Arthur's head so he was looking at him.

"Vous savez," he said. "Je pense que je suis tombé amoureux de vous."

Arthur's eyes opened wide as the words he heard sank in.

"Y-you're just saying that because you want me to go to your bed," he accused.

"You are mistaken Arthur," Francis said. "What I have said is true. I love you."

Arthur stood completely still watching Francis' every move. He watched how his eyes looked into his so tenderly. He watch as a smile sat on his face, gentle and warm. How he seemed so sincere in what he had just told him. Then, he watched as his face began to come closer to him. How his eyes began to close as the distance between their lips became shorter. He closed his eyes shut waiting to feel the frenchman's lips against his.

Francis watched Arthur through narrowed eyes as he came closer to him. He couldn't help but think he looked adorable as his cheeks became more and more red due to their ending distance. He had wanted to kiss him for so very long. A kiss that meant something more than those he generally gave to others. This kiss was meant for only him, and no one else. His most loving kiss belonged to Arthur, but he had to stop himself.

As Arthur shut his eyes tightly, Francis couldn't help but think that he didn't want this. He didn't want to steal the kiss that was meant to be so preiouse to both of them. Arthur wasn't ready. He needed to believe he really loved him first. So he pulled away from his lips and planted a kiss on his forehead instead, letting his lips linger there for a few moments. He pulled away from Arthur and walked over to get his coat.

Arthur just watched him in confusion. This wasn't very France-like. Whenever he wanted something, he would try and take it by force, which would always end in him beating the Frenchman to a pulp. It made him wonder if what he had said before was true. What if Francis really loved him? What did he feel back?

"You don't have to believe me," he said turning to look at Arthur one last time. "Je vous laisse avec vos pensées."

"F-Francis," Arthur called to him.

"Adieu mon chéri," he bid farewell.

Arthur watched him begin to leave before he placed a finger on his forehead where he had kissed him. He leaned against the wall and looked down at the floor as Francis walked out the door.

"You stupid git," he said in a whisper.

* * *

Phrases in French

I love you-Je t'aime

Those crappy scones of yours?- Ces scones misérables à vous ?

my darling- mon chéri

darling-cheri

so beautiful- Si beau

no-non

you know..- Vous savez

I think I have fallen in love with you- je pense que je suis tombé amoureux de vous.

I leave you with your thoughts- Je vous laisse avec vos pensées.

Farewell my darling- Adieu mon chéri

Est il heure pour une tapis a longs poils de matin?-Is it time for a morning shag?

Vous semblez sexy dans cette chemise-You look sexy in that shirt.

I think that is all of them. Tell me if I missed any. :D


End file.
